Necropolis' in the sky
by Basher Lash
Summary: Two years since the reopening of the Dark Portal and Azeroth had forgotten about the frigid wasteland to the North. Another attack rains upon Alliance and Horde forces alike, that of which eventually lead them to war on Northrend. Mature, swearing, gore.


If you don't like this, seriously, don't read it.

It's a R-rated to NC17 fan fiction, including a lot of gore, the potent ional of damaging imagery, nightmares, warlike content, and of coarse, there's gotta be sex. And a love story in here somewhere. O.0 /peer. Yeah, tis in there. x3

A Warcraft Fanfiction. This is based on the next expansion, Wrath of the Lich King. Most of my information here is based on prior Warcraft history from both the books and games itself, mostly W3 and its expansion Frozen Throne that detail Arthas a bit better. The other part of this is based on just what I assume based on the history of Warcraft. So, ha. 

Plot-

Two years after the opening of the Dark Portal and Azeroth had long forgotten of its frigid wasteland to the North. While they focused on Illidan's forces and defeating the Demon Hunter, Arthas slowly gained strength and launched an attack. 

�Main Characters-

�Lorfid is a mage that had been on route to Medivh's tower years ago to apprentice, when the Magus went insane just before his arrival and was killed. Smart and witty, often too optimistic for his own good, Lorfid's sometimes insane schemes are sometimes the best damn thing he ever thought up. Au'lar is a druid from Moonglade who'd befriended Lorfid years ago but had only recently accompanied him, regarding the latest actions from Northrend. Because of the peaceful Moonglade ways, she refuses combat, to a certain degree. Xax is a mysterious rogue whose face is constantly covered. Unknown to Au'lar but common knowledge to Lorfid, Xax is a Sin'Dorei seeking to renounce the arcane hunger of his people and join the High Elves of Shattrath, though with the downfall of Kael'thas, slowly begins withering to death with arcane withdrawl.

Meanwhile, Silvermoon has ransacked itself in the wake of discovering Kael'Thas betrayal and his legion to Illidan. Seeking to abolish any remaining memories of the royal family, they banish his would-be bride, Sal'Amin, of who had been engaged to him through an arranged royal system. Now banished to Northrend and quickly discovered by the Scourge, she is taken prisoner within an inch of her life to a holding pen, for the Lich King. 

Though Sal'Amin's connection to Arthas in the past may affect her future…

Btw, I don't own this. Wrath of the Lich King prolly wont be like this. I have no clue at all. Wrath of the Lich King, The Burning Crusade, Warcraft 3, Warcraft 3: Frozen Throne, and World of Warcraft all belong to Blizzard. Like everything. All of it. x I don't own this so don't sue meh! Im not making money from this, Im just writing it cuz I got this idea, and I like it. )

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Drop.

Drip.

Scrape.

Whether it was night or day outside was quite irrelevant. 

Not a shred of sunlight, nor moonlight glow, would breach the thick darkness, the clouds of hate and stench of undead, into the underground reaches of the sewers. The catacombs, lit broadly in torches that hardly offered enough light.

The Undercity, the throne Arthas had prepared himself before his strength wavered. The ruins of the city he'd destroyed, Lord'Aeron. Now creeping with Forsaken.

No, they were nothing like the Scourge. The fact that they were, unfortunately, dead, was the only similarity they bore to the Lich's Scourge. They thought. They felt pain, happiness, sadness. They knew what it -was- like to once live, and the agony to have died. 

Though none had suffered as much as the Dark Lady herself.

Seated on the soiled silk of a rotted and cracked throne, gilded with copper tones here and there that shone in the scant torchlight. Maps were scattered on the filthy floor. Old maps, new maps, and blank parchment… The Banshee Queen was carefully, slowly mapping out attacks, here and there to small Alliance bases lining Tirisfall Glades and furthermore… Tactical mind at use.

She hardly twitched a muscle at all when a sudden soft thud landed somewhere in the stretches of darkness. Instead, sullen white glowing eyes staring up, long silvery wisps of hair sticking to her face in stringy strands, not a breathe passing for a moment, and finally releasing it with a long gust, a puff of white from her nose and mouth.

Whatever it was was scuttling along the ground now. A flash of black caught her eye here and there.

"Whose there?" Her unearthly, soulless voice rung out, echoing within itself. 

Almost immediately upon request, the -thing- in question came out of the darkness just to her left - A raven. 

Sylvanas sat back, nearly amused by the bird for a moment. Watching as it turned its head, clicked its beak and stared up at her with round yellow eyes. Ah, there was something about this creature that could nearly be described as…

Broken from her train of thought as the bird moved, hopping sideways toward her, but pausing on a map instead of approaching further. Cocking its head, it stared down at where it had landed… A ruffled its feathers. Standing on the oceanatic part of one of the newer maps, just off the coast of the bays of Eversong Woods and Silvermoon. And… Stood still.

"Hm." Sylvanas had a strange interest with birds.

Always had.

Perhaps because they were most trusted by Silvermoon, and loyal companions to the Rangers. Her sister had had a falcon, herself…

The raven moved again. Sylvanas watched as its feather ruffled, and it took off with a gush of wings and inky black feathers, disappearing where ever it had fallen through. Most likely, one of the old drains from the old castle above.

Wasn't shocking. Now and then her Forsaken would catch a stray rat for torture.

She shrugged off the encounter and reached for the farthest map, shaking off the dense black feathers. One feather stuck, right over the elegantly etched name, Silvermoon. Reaching to pluck it off, the Dark Lady paused when the feather was suddenly engulfed in clear white smoke, engulfing the elfish city in the process til it was singed off of the map.

The ashes that lay in its wake slowly begun to move. 

Stretching across the old yellow parchment like long spindly fingers, drawn by invisible hands, led by unseen eyes, til it reached the blank area between and above the two continents. Within mere blinks the old and forgotten continent of Northrend was drawn there, as though it had been there all along, waspy remains of the ash and smoke fluttering away into the filthy air.

Sylvanas made a noise and leapt from her throne, tossing away the map in the process. Ghostly eyes drawn upwards toward where the raven had disappeared and searched for a silken flash of smooth black feather.

For a moment she forgot to breathe. 

And then remembered, she didn't need too.

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Few occasions drew eyes upwards toward the heavens in such a way. 

In fear.

The sun that drew warm light to Northshire, Goldshire and Stormwind darkened as the plague advanced and the ground itself trembled beneath sightless footfalls. Riders stormed the city gates in fear as guards there stood idle, removing their glorified helms to better gaze at what overshadowed them.

And a silence like never before washed over them.

Necropolis' glared down at them, slow and lazy as they hovered above the city gates. Almost graceful somehow in its destructive way, the soft gush of green spewing over its edges and cascading to the cobblestone beneath. 

Still, silence.

"Are you all insane?" 

A voice broke the chill in the air and the guards shook. Upon a startled palomino sat a mage, staff at the ready though useless in the same instant, harsh gray eyes staring at them all.

"Close the gates! Let no one pass!" He yelled and motioned. Two riders followed him, galloping through the Valley of Heroes. 

"Shut them!" A guard chimed from on top the towers. The cry rung out like chimes in the wind between them and for the first time since Stormwind's gates opened, they swung, steady to a solid oaken crunch, and locked shut. Only moments later the first Undead groan sounded from the other side.

The town was silent and still as the riders passed, almost as if they were still in time. Doors and windows shut and latched, children ushered inside quickly. Horses from the stables were crying out fearfully, cats and rats and dogs scattering into alleyways and the gryphons fought the Keeper to soar into the air, to get away. A few managed, storming through the streets before catching air and flying away rapidly. 

The water itself in the canals was blackening. The leaves were withering, magical flames bursting to life as they normally did at sunset, providing little light in the deafening darkness.

The castle doors were shut. Guards lined it, and stopped the Mage and his companions.

"Halt!" the guard before them, helmless shouted. Wind was picking up, pulling his blond hair around his gruff features, "None shall enter the King's quarters!"

"Let us pass", the mage said sternly.

"None, Lorfid, shall pass." the guard repeated heavily.

"Samuel, the Necropolis is advancing." Lorfid said calmly, smoothly. His horse whinnied loudly, startling the already skittish guards. With a snort, Lorfid stepped down from the saddle and tossed the reins toward his riders, "We have news from Darnassus, from Ironforge. Gryphon's havn't been able to fly under these conditions, and the Gnomes have blocked off the Deeptram. We're the -only- news the young King may receive."

Guard Samuel looked between the riders and back at Lorfid, considering quietly. Armor creaking.

"None."

Lorfid sighed in aggravation and motioned to the riders. Each stepped down from their mounts, one upon a Frostsaber, of which emitted a low sound from its heavy throat. While not startled, it was edgy.

"I promise you we mean no harm. But, we might, if you do not let us through.", Lorfid tapped the staff on the ground with each step, "And you know of my forbidden teachings, of my time in Karazhan… What I had learned from the master."

"Medivh was a madman, Lorfid, and I don't doubt as much of you," Guard Samuel said defensively. Crossing his arms, "How do I know that Karazhan hadn't corrupted your mind as well…? As far as the townsfolk, and any human within reaches of here, you are -just- as mad as he."

"Then you should let us through before I allow this madness consume me." Lorfid smirked a little. Uncomfortably close to Guard Samuel, the Guard shifted and peered between the riders again. Shadowy… The wind around them grew stronger… The sound of the Necropolis just outside sending down its undead forces was carried by the wind.

"Perhaps I am mad as well then." Samuel finally conceded and stepped aside, motioning to the guards. One of them nudged the door open and warm golden light washed over them. Lorfid, still smirked, merely stepped by them and inside. His riders followed in silence.

"You've never spent a day in Karazhan," a rich voice sung out, lifting the hood, smiling glowing eyes looking the Mage's way.

"But Im a damn good liar aren't I?" Lorfid sighed, rather proud of himself, peering around at the people scurrying about. Carrying scrolls, the Lieutenants marching to their quarters, to discuss, and he almost seemed fucking amused at the whole damn situation.

Ah, the young king was no where within sight. Lorfid paused at the top of the long slanted hall and looked around. Naturally, Anduin would be taken away elsewhere in a time such as this. But Fordragon, was no where to be seen.

"Strange… " Lorfid mumbled under his breathe. A moment or so later, the ground shook and whatever flickering laterns of light cast across the long hall and oval room flashed a frigid blue before dispersing into wafts of smoke climbing upward. Everything was pitched into immediate darkness, long stainglass window's hardly offering any light at all.

A door somewhere swung open mightily, crashing into the marble castle wall with a deafening crunch and a voice billowed into the silent panic, "Torches! Don't stand there!"

"And to think I was -just- wondering where you were…" There came a sudden burst of light from Lorfid's staff. Smirking, he cradled the flame into his gloved hand and reached up, lighting the nearest torch to him. Quietly, almost casually going around the room, lighting each one carefully, "The Necropolis' are active again."

"I've noticed." Bolvar seemed interested in what Lorfid was doing for a moment, and then backed toward the room he had emerged from. Inside there, with the glimmers of light, Lorfid could make out a long table scattered with papers, quills and inkwell's. Many goblets of wine and advisors to the King sitting on the edge of their chairs, watching the workings of the outer halls. 

Lorfid happened to glance over at the right moment, spotting something familiar. It was old. Very old. Only ten copies had been made, painstakingly before the continent became… Unlivable to the living…He stepped forward, "it's the King."

"There is only one King." Bolvar said, offhandedly, "Anduin."

"No, not him. The -true- king… Arthas." 

The name sent chills through the hall. Guards, Lieutenants and royal folk alike stood still with baited breathe to see Lorfid's intentions.

The mage smirked at Fordragon's silence, "There are Necropolis above Darnassus, Ironforge… The Horde capitols as well. And, speaking of the Horde capitols… Silvermoon has overthrown itself. The Blood Elves, have gone into a maddened rage since finding about Kael'Thas… Almost the entire city lies in ruin, and the last, prostective member of their royal bloodline has disappeared."

"I care not about the Horde at this moment, Mage. I care about our people." Fordragon snapped, turning and glaring viciously at Lorfid, with a combination of too much wine and a severe lack of sleep. Lorfid shrugged softly.

"Then I suppose it is of no interest to you, that -since- Silvermoon was nearest to the northern continent… Multipule Necropolis had been spotted there. The Undead reign a siege down the Dead Scar. Soon they will reach the Plaguelands… Overtake the Ruins of LordAeron… And after, they will spread their plague, straight to us."

Fordragon was quiet, staring, bloodshot eyes not wavering once from Lorfid. Ah, and since the Knight didn't protest, Lorfid continued.

"Its seems that the opening of the Dark Portal two years ago was convenient for the King. Our attention, everyone's attention was turned to Vashj, Kael… Illidan. We forgot that Northrend even existed. He's accumulated quite the army as well, quite the resources. He's gotten more powerful…"

"Quiet!" Fordragon roared, like a mighty lion of the Alliance. Lorfid was quite startled for a moment, grasping his long staff with both hands and eyeing the Knight, "If you should -continue-, Mage, then I shall assume you're in legion with the Lich King and sentence you and you're friends for execution."

Lorfid snorted a little. Only the shift of the Night Elf to his right and gaze of the rogue from behind her drew his attention for a moment, and he reconsidered a snide comment in return. Instead straightening and fixing his robes, "Fine. We shall leave then."

Heavy gazes followed them back down the hall. Lorfid held his smirk the whole while til they reached the broad doors, Samual flanking the right side and guards on the left. The knight, now wearing his gilded helm, watched Lorfid and his party quietly leave and stray to their respective mounts.

"You're not a Guardian, Lorfid." Samual mumbled, daring step toward them. The sky had grown considerably darker now, to which one could mistake for a moonless midnight. The wind was strong as well, "What Medivh was, you're not a Guardian, Lorfid. Stop trying to be one, their all dead. Unless, you plan to join them."

"Hmph!" Lorfid was speechless for once, turning his palomino and storming down the canals. 

The Night Elf upon her frost saber followed and masked rogue in suite on a dark steed.

"What will we do now?" The Night Elf inquired when they slowed. Pointless to attempt to leave now, the city was most likely blocked off… Lorfid sighed and placed his long staff across his bridle, watching both mounted and grounded Guards rushing past them, torches lit, offering a brief flash of golden light.

"We must portal out, Au'lar. To Shattrath. As far as Im concerned, the Necropolis cannot travel interdimensionally.", Lorfid said thoughtfully… Placing his staff onto the cobblestone ground, hands glowing a vibrant blue in the darkness, "Fordragon wont listen. There's not much that we can do."

The portal appeared before them. Whirling, spinning fast, and in its center laying the center of Shattrath.

"Not much else…?" Au'lar repeated, following Lorfid as he rode through the portal. Merely the echo of hooves told her that Xax had followed, "If we do nothing, then we've already lost."

"The three of us…?" Lorfid said mockingly, gazing about the vast city. Ah, Shattrath amused him. Most pointedly, A'dal in its center, glowing gently in its warm beam of light spiraling skyward, "The three of us can do nothing. We'd be cut down by the Scourge armies before we'd make it to Northrend."

Au'lar was about to respond when something caught all of their collective attentions. The Draenei were forming together, as they typically did in the Sancuary, but this time there was a air of urgency about them. Elekk's in long lines were being fitted with heavy armor, aside from the traditional armaments they wore. Tusks were being fitted with arching and deadly shreds of plate, their flanks covered, eyes masked. Every now and then one of them would protest noisily though hardly echoing above the drill of hooves and voices.

Horde were gathering around, as well as Alliance, watching. 

But Lorfid was not one to merely stand around in baited breathe. Striding forward on his startled and baying palomino, he approached one of the Draenei soldier's, painstakingly cleaning his blade.

"You there. What's the meaning of all of this?" Lorfid had to yell, just to be heard over the ruckus.

The Draenei looked up for a moment and meekly back down, "We've been called to your Planet, human. Along with the exiles from the Exodar. You're people, the little ones, the ones with long ears… They are routing ships to near ports on Northrend."

Lorfid stared quietly, nodding in acknowledgment and thanks, turning back to his party and eyeing the two of them. Au'lar was impatient to hear, and Xax hardly seemed interested, slouched over the neck of his horse slightly. Looking down, he could see the rogue clutching hold of the leather reins fairly hard, til his leather gloves look as though they might snap at the knuckles.

"The Alliance, seems to be recruiting anything they can. The horde are doing the same, I'd imagine."

"Recruiting for what?" Au'lar asked quickly.

"Apparently, they're going to be sending shipments of us to Northrend. From my guess, to face the Scourge forces head on." Lorfid snorted a little. Now, why couldn't Fordragon have told them this much…? Then again, if Lorfid had pressed him further, he might be hanging at the gallows by now.

Au'lar was quiet. She looked over to Xax, who straightened and glanced over briefly.

"Then do we join them…?" She asked quietly.

"Of coarse!" Lorfid smirked brilliant, suddenly, "The horde are going there as well. This isn't merely a trip to Northrend… As of now, it's a competition. A race. To whom step foot onto Northrend first! And it, is going to be us. For the Alliance!"

Au'lar hardly had time to question him. Lorfid rode swiftly between the two of them, back to the center of the city, and straight to the portal there to Ironforge.

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- First character is done! Fordragon's an ass, isn't he? xx I always thought he -looked- like a asshole so. /shrug

�Explainations!

-Medivh was killed after opening the Dark Portal. Unfortunately there are three entirely seperate methods of his death, one including three of his personal friends, and another including him being beheaded by Alliance soldier's. He wasn't -exactly- alive or dead in Warcraft 3, but merely fullfilling his role as the last Guardian by warning King Menethil. 

�-Now I would assume that Blood Elves in Silvermoon presently dont know what Kael'thas is doing. This comes from when I was on my Blood Elf mage in the netherstorm - I found a blood elf NPC mining in the cave, who said something along the lines of, 'He didn't expect to leave Silvermoon to Outland for manual labor'. Not to mention that Blood Elves can attack Kael'thas in Tempest Keep ( And the new instance's their coming out with where Kael can be killed AGAIN. Clearly he is a man who doesn't know the meaning of the word DEATH ), and considering that he practically saved the entire race by teaching them how to take Mana from living being's after Arthas ransacked the Sunwell, I believe that the Blood Elves would go bawls out apeshit if 1) Kael'thas betrayed them and 2) Kael'thas died, both of which happen, which causes them to go NUTS. Imo. And incase people really dont know the lore, Lady Sylvanas Windrunner was a High Elf ranger in the present day Ghostlands, whose soul was literally torn out of her body, and therefore created as the first Banshee ( Therefore the 'queen' of banshee's ). And as the present leader of the Foresaken, AND technically a Sin'dorei herself, thats why she found out about Silvermoon's downfall before it even happened.

-The Necropolis? About 6-8 months prior to TBC's release, there was a patch released called Shadow of the Necropolis, where, basically, large hovering Necropolis' spawned above the gates of all major cities along with craploads of lowbie undead mobs. High level mobs were spawned in higher level zones, basically the "endgame" zones like Silithus and Burning Steppes. I just assume that if Arthas was going to attack again, he'd use the same method of attack. ( Also was when Naxxrama's was released. Btw, there used to be a UD glutton type mob that would spawn INSIDE Stormwind and wreak havoc. x3 It used to be funny. )

-Xax and the withdrawl? Basically according to lore, whatever Sin'Dorei hadn't been killed by Arthas and his armies, died of severe mana withdrawl, since he destroyed the Sunwell when he ressurrected Kel'Thuzad, leaving just 10 of the original population, that were in the processes of dying from the withdrawl when Kael returned. Plus Warcraft makes it farely obvious in new BE NPC quests that the mana addiction is a double-edged blade: Without mana, the withdrawl is so severe they die from it, but eventually the mana will consume them and the addiction will become so powerful, that THAT will kill them. So, Blood Elves are essentially a very tragic race, because their born into mana addiction that will eventually kill them. 

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Anyway. Im done. o.o Chapter two soon.�


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